


Tame

by Woofemus



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Gen, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5577613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woofemus/pseuds/Woofemus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragons do not betray. It was the only phrase she remembered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tame

**Author's Note:**

> Nagamas gift for teshiimaas. This Morgan is Cherche!Morgan.

There wasn't much she could remember.

She had woken up in a place dimly lit. There was an axe in her hands, its edge blunt and dull. Sprawled out on the ground next to her was a wyvern, eyes closed. There was a small panic that rose in her and she scrambled to the wyvern without a second thought.

A tense moment passed before the wyvern opened its eyes. It looked at her before crooning, nudging its head against her hand.

It was alive, and it seemed like it knew her. She didn't remember this wyvern. Was it hers?

It flicked its tongue at her and before she realized, tears sprang to her eyes. She wiped at them before staring at her hands, watching the tears splash against them. The wyvern let out a soft growl, moving closer to her.

“Why?” she asked, to the wyvern, to herself, to no one. “Why... am I crying? Why don't I remember anything? Why does it feel...”

The only answer she received was her wyvern letting out a loud screech. She yelped—and suddenly she was atop the wyvern. There was a saddle, something she was noticing now. Before she even registered anything else, one of her hands was already on the reins, the other holding her axe ready.

“I... I knew how... to fight?” she asked again to the empty air. She looked all around her but there was nothing she could see. Still, her wyvern was tense and there was a tingling feeling running down the back of her neck. There was danger here. “But... where... where do I go?”

For a reason unknown to her, she shot her eyes down to the back of her hand. Nothing but bare skin met her eyes. She furrowed her brow as she inspected it, holding it up. “Strange... why do I feel as if I should have something here?” She closed her eyes, imagining her hand. “It... it should... should be something... purple... with... eyes? It... it's...”

“ _Dragons do not betray.”_

A jolt shot through her.

She let out a sharp gasp and snapped her eyes open at the same time. Both of her hands were gripping the reins now, knuckles white. She panted, sweat dripping down her face. Her heart beat so loudly she could hear it from her ears, loud and drumming.

It was a wonderful sound, she couldn’t help but think.

The wyvern growled softly, turning its head to peer up at her with worried eyes.

“I... I...” she shook her head as put a hand over her chest. “What... what is this feeling? I...”

She had no more time to ponder when a loud shout startled her. She immediately turned to face it, her axe ready.

A man stood there, a book in his hands with her other held toward her cautiously.

Excitement shot through her when she saw him and even her wyvern cried out, for he was--

“Father!”

She didn’t know her name but she knew her father better than anyone else. Nothing else seemed to matter to her in this moment. She was reunited with her beloved father and there was nothing better, she had thought.

It was only until after the battle when the danger had passed that he brought her to meet the others.

The other children.

She stared at them. They stared back.

She raised her hand to wave before she realized something was wrong.

In their eyes, there was nothing but confusion and wariness. They wore no smiles on their faces as they watched her.

There was a sickening pang inside of her when she realized that most of all, there was fear in their eyes.

She slowly lowered her hand, returning their stares with her own confused one. She didn’t remember anything except for her father but it seemed as if _they_ knew who she was. But if they looked at her with such revolt, then... that meant she... she must have done bad things, right?

She... what had she done? Why were they looking at her like that? Why didn’t she remember anything? Why... who...

_What couldn’t she remember?_

“Morgan!”

In the end, it was a tall boy in black armor wearing a strange mask, leaping from the saddle of his wyvern, that ran toward her. He gathered her in his arms, softly stroking her hair. She wanted to push him away but his wyvern came running forth as well, crying loudly as it collapsed around them.

The boy began to weep and he clung to her tightly, whispering apologies and for forgiveness, sobbing that name she didn't know into her hair as he held her. She wanted to pull away, shake her head and tell him he was wrong because she didn't remember anything. She put her hands on him but instead of pushing him away, found herself holding onto him as if he was a lifeline. She closed her eyes, joining him as her own tears streamed down her cheeks.

In that moment, even though she didn't know his name nor his wyvern, Morgan felt like she had returned.

* * *

Sometimes, when she slept at night, she heard them.

There were deep rumblings, like the soft growling of a dragon. It was much deeper than any sound Minerva or her own wyvern made. It was like a low hum, low enough that it never bothered her though she was always aware of it. She didn’t know where it came from. 

She liked to think of it as a song of the dragons, a small remnant of the past she couldn’t remember. It was peaceful. It sounded nice. It was soothing. It was familiar. It felt like a lullaby. 

But it was always her brother who woke her, always told her that she thrashed so much in her sleep that he worried she was having nightmares instead.

“No? I always feel so peaceful when I hear it,” she said. “Like my mind going blank and I’m just... floating.” 

Gerome always gave her an odd look when she said this, and there were times where he’d looked at her sadly. She didn’t know what that meant, wondering why he looked uneasy and unsettled every time.

The others though...

She tried. She always did everything Lucina asked, played along with Cynthia and Owain's fantasies (but they were also just so _fun_ that she couldn't help herself sometimes), tried to help Noire when she was having one of her moments even when the other girl seemed so terribly skittish of her, helped Brady carry his staves even, did everything she could think of.

It did nothing, nothing to ease the way Inigo hesitated for a brief moment before plastering a smile on his face, the glares Severa sent her way when she thought Morgan wasn't aware, how Yarne never seemed to want to be in the same room as her.

“I don’t remember anything,” she said during a moment of frustration. “I must have done bad things for them to act like that but... but I’m trying! Can’t they see that?!” 

Her brother said nothing. He was always like that, silently regarding her, always overthinking what to say. It made her feel she was still nothing but a child in his eyes, someone who was weak and needed protection. When he looked at her, sometimes she felt like he was seeing someone else that was both her and not her.

“I don't remember anything. I don't remember _anything,_ ” she repeated, her voice becoming desperate. She clenched her fists, looking down at the ground. “But I’m here, with all of you, trying to save our world. Isn’t... doesn’t... doesn’t that count for something?” Her voice became a pathetic whimper. She knew she sounded like a pitiful child but there was nothing she felt like she could do. Not even her brother would tell her what she didn’t remember, explaining that Morgan’s amnesia was a blessing from Naga.

If even her brother knew the horrible things she did and denied none of them... then... she...

Gerome reached out, gently putting his hand on her shoulder.

“Morgan,” he spoke, his voice a deep rumble. Even through his mask, Morgan could tell he wore a pained expression. “We... we understand. What we lived through in our world... it was no easy feat. There were many atrocities committed, so many people we couldn’t save, and many more we abandoned to come here. And for you... for _you_...”

Gerome knelt in front of her, staring at the ground. “We... had to do so many things just to _survive,_ including... including you. I... I could never fault you for what happened... but it is better for you to not remember the horrors of the world we forsook to come here. For you to not remember anything that happened _there_ , I couldn’t be more than happy. We... I...” His voice dropped to a whisper, weak and afraid. “I refuse to let you be taken away again.” 

Morgan kept still as she listened to her brother’s words. She understood that what the others had gone through were horrors no one else should have lived through. The way they looked at her sometimes though... had... had she... done something to contribute to those horrors?

“Brother... I...”

“Dragons do not betray,” he spoke then, voice still quiet. “I will always stand by your side no matter what... I would never... I’ll never...” He hugged her, holding her tightly.

Dragons do not be betray, she repeated in her mind. Was it a phrase her brother told her? It calmed her down when she said it.

She... she would never betray her friends, betray her family, betray her blood.

If that was why all their friends were afraid, then all she had to do was to never betray them now. She was here in the past with all of them. She wanted to save this world just as much as they did. She pushed herself even more. She hoped that one day, they would be able to consider her one of them, children of a doomed world who no longer had anything but each other.

Just as they wished for, she would never let Grima destroy their world--

Grima screamed and Morgan felt her whole body freeze, too paralyzed to even think. Even as she saw the Risen falcon knight speeding toward her, she couldn’t move. Her wyvern let out a weak screech, desperately trying to get its rider to move.

“Morgan!”

Gerome screamed her name as he crashed into the falcon knight. With his spear, he stabbed through the rider. Cynthia came flying from above, her pegasus stomping upon the rider and undead pegasus, sending the both of them plummeting down as they vanished in a puff of black smoke. Cynthia flashed them both a grin before flying off.

Morgan watched her fly off before her brother came to her. He came close enough to put a hand on hers, squeezing down gently.

“Morgan, we are here with you. All of us. Do not lose sight of that. Please,” he pleaded softly.

Morgan looked at him. She looked down at the ground, at the back of Grima, where the army, where their friends were. They were all fighting, desperately trying their hardest to prevent the future they had all come from.

What she had helped bring forth in their world, she couldn’t think but help.

“Yeah,” she said, gripping her axe tightly. She looked over at her brother before training her eyes straight ahead, smiling slightly. “Father’s waiting for us.” 

Gerome followed her gaze, to where Lucina already was, to where Chrom and Robin were. He nodded, taking his hand away. “Yes. Let us go, Morgan.”

They flew, killing every Risen in their way. No matter how many of them came through the portals, the daughter and son of the Fell Dragon disposed of every single one. They would end everything here, to make up for their father damning the world.

They reached the neck of the Fell Dragon just as the tome from Robin’s tome flipped open, crackling with lightning. Chrom let out a shout as he rushed ahead.

Morgan dove forward just as the lightning from Robin's fingertips sprang forward and penetrated straight through the Avatar of Grima.

A pulse ran through her. 

The memories came back.

There was a screech but it sounded distant, a place far, far away. The sound still made her shudder, still made her tremble with fear. Her brother was calling her name but she couldn’t hear him.

_Morgan, my child... are you unhurt? Will you... listen to me once more?_

_Come... I need your help... aid me once more as you used to..._

_Everyone here... is an enemy... they use false words to lure you... not like me... because you are my child...  
_

_Use your fangs... and tear their flesh... they will kill us... they’ll destroy us..._

“N-no...” Morgan shook her head. Her axe shook in her hand. “N-not them... I... I-I won’t... don’t m-make me...” 

_Will you betray me, Morgan?_

She froze. She looked down at her hand. There it was, the cursed mark upon her hand, blindingly purple and sinister, chaining her to her fell blood. Her eyes trailed downward to her axe. There was the dark ichor of the Risen on it, dripping off of the stained metal.

She blinked. 

_The axe was slick with blood, and in front of her was Gerome, laying motionless on the ground. There was a long gash on him and a puddle of blood underneath him. Lucina was holding him, shouting. What was she saying? Why did she look so afraid? Why was she so angry?_

_Why was she pointing Falchion at her?  
_

The image was gone. There was a hazy figure in front of her now. It felt familiar, like she had gone home.

Home, where there was nothing but destruction and ruin of everything she knew, where her eyes were blank as she watched the dead landscape, where nothing made sense except for the words of her father.

_Dragons do not betray._

It wasn't her brother's voice she heard speaking the familiar words anymore. It was her father's, distorted and twisted into an ugly snarl. There was no love in that voice, only madness and fury roaring underneath.

It was never the song of the wyverns she was hearing in her dreams.

Her father, standing at the nape of Grima, raised his hand at her and there it was, that irresistible tug. She began to move. It felt as if she were watching herself instead, every motion feeling foreign to her. Her axe was raised and she could feel herself lumbering forward, toward her fathers.

She heard someone screaming her name. Gerome, or Lucina, she didn’t know, nor did the thought stay in her mind. All she knew right now... was...

“F-Father... I... I have to help...”

 _Dragons do not betray_ , her mind screamed desperately. She nodded, her whole body feeling heavy as she struggled against the pull. “F-Father,” she said again, whimpering. “I-I’m... I...”

The one she never wanted to betray...

_Rend and rip the flesh of our enemies! Destroy all who oppose us! Defile everything and bring darkness to the world! Devour it all!  
_

**_Don’t betray your father!_ **

Morgan screamed as she rushed forward with her axe raised high, bringing it down upon the Avatar.

Grima roared, roared to the high heavens above them where mighty dragons once soared, roared to the depths of the earth where the earth dragons still slumbered, roared to the rest of the world to let them hear his fury. Within that maddening howl, Morgan felt something resonate deep inside, a frightening feeling of nostalgia surging through her.

She would never hear it again.

Darkness engulfed her.

There was her father in the darkness, staring accusingly at her with all of his eyes. His mouth moved and Morgan didn’t have to guess what he was saying. She screamed, she cried, she shrieked, for him to understand.

It had never been the shadows she wanted to obey.

Morgan wondered if her friends would remember her, if they could look at her for _her_ and not the mindless puppet that had been brainwashed by her father. She wanted more than nothing to prove she wasn’t the same as before. But before she could, she had... she...

All she had wanted...

She snapped open her eyes, gasping for breath.

There was someone in front of her--no, there were two of them now. Morgan blinked dazedly before she realized who stood in front of her. Lucina and Owain stood there, peering down at her worriedly. Groggily, she blinked back at them, groaning. Everything felt hazy, like she was waking up from a long... long dream...

When she tried to recall, she couldn’t remember why she had fallen asleep in the first place, what she had even been dreaming of, why she was even here. But she felt light, relieved, unburdened, as if a great fog had been lifted from her mind.

Owain looked down at her before he flashed one of his boyish grins. Lucina sighed softly, holding out her hand.

“There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know,” Lucina murmured, smiling gently. “Here, give me your hand.”

There wasn’t much Morgan could remember but as she took Lucina’s hand, she found she didn’t mind at all.


End file.
